Twenty Points From Gryffindor
by Polyplectron
Summary: 'From the moment they became acquainted, the girl had made his skin crawl.' Observe Hermione Granger and Severus Snape's complicated relationship each year they are together in 600 word drabbles. AU Voldemort Wins. Dark/Horror/Comfort WARNINGS Abuse, Character death, Mature Content, Snape POV
1. First Year

**1****st**** Year**

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"Excuse me Professor Snape?"

The small girl entered the room with self-deluded determination that made his skin crawl with agitation. The closer she approached him, the more her dainty feet fell unsure and the harder the lines in her plump face pinched her soft skin. Due to her short stature and thick bushel of hair he might have confused her for a furry familiar but even the vocalisations of the common barn owl could not compare to her squawking.

"What is it Miss Granger?"

"Professor," she started, taking in a huge breath and hugging her books towards her flat chest in false hope and security, "I-I do not think you are being very fair to me during class."

Raising a furrowed brow, he crossed his arms and leaned over his desk, hovering a few inches above her. Smelling her fear, he smiled a smile reserved for those he found small delight in torturing and addressed her with unrestrained cynicism.

"Is that so Miss Granger?" he sneered.

"Yes sir," she hesitated, "y-you never let me answer questions and I-"

"Stop." he silenced her with a raised hand.

Normally, he would show restraint but there was something about this particular student that made him want to strangle all the optimism from her tiny neck, to the point where she could only perform basic functions like breathing and blinking. As if reading his mind, the girl slowly backed herself against one of the student desks, now regretting questioning his authority. He wondered how she'd found the time to visit between classes and devouring books.

"Miss Granger, regurgitating information will not gain you recognition in my classroom and until you realise this, there is no guarantee that you will even get a second glance from me. Unlike some, I will not allow you leniency because you believe me to be 'unfair'_._"

Making his way around the table and standing directly in front of her, the girl dropped her books in fright. Towering at twice her height, the girl felt minuscule and even helpless under his dark gaze.

"And if intentionally ignoring you in class and grading your potions at an average at best, makes me 'unfair', then might I suggest packing your bags and returning home? You are a muggleborn, correct?"

Tears threatened spill down her rosy cheeks but she blinked them back defiantly and nodded.

"Do I detect a hint of sadness Miss Granger? Perhaps you should leave, I will not stop you."

"Shut up!" she hissed, like a viper agitated in the sand and, just as quickly, her hands flew to her mouth in disbelief.

He was not surprised at her audacity, for he was encouraging it, any excuse to let out his frustrations. Sealing her in, he placed two hands either side her small body on the table and dropped to her eye level, smirking at her.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor Miss Granger, for cursing and disrespecting authority. Doesn't that seem _fair_ Miss Granger?"

A few tears fell slowly over her cheeks.

"Well? Answer me when I speak to you girl!" he snapped, aware his next class will be approaching any moment.

The girl stared back at him, baring all her emotions and frustrations to him with those dilated hazelnut orbs.

"Yes Professor Snape" she said defeated.

"Clever girl," he rose from crouching, "Did this _heart to heart_ not go as planned, Miss Granger?"

The girl solemnly shook her head and avoided his gaze, as if he were the gorgon.

"I did not think so", he smirked, taking satisfaction in her suffering, "Get out of my classroom, you stupid girl."

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	2. Second Year

**2****nd**** Year**

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"Well Miss Granger, seems curiosity almost killed the cat"

With a face devoid of even a hint of amusement, he stood dormant at the end of her hospital bed. The girl was shedding and it was quite a horrific sight to behold. Mottle brown fur cascaded down her face onto the crisp white sheets every time she moved her tiny brows or moved her bothersome mouth. Refusing the see him eye to eye Snape turned to Poppy who stood silently next to him.

"That will be all Poppy, her condition is stable, I would rather take it from here myself."

"Professor Snape, Miss Granger needs to rest, you can give her detention or yell at her as much as you please once she is well again."

Stubbornly he eyed her with indignant defiance; "No, I would prefer to talk to _my_ student now if you _don't _mind Poppy."

"Well of course I mind." The older woman stated, packing up her empty vials of salve and tonics; purposefully she walked from the bedside. Casting a reproachful look at him and eyeing Miss Granger one last time she pulled the hovering clinical curtains behind her.

"_Muffliato_"

The girls eyes were wide in confusion at the unfamiliar spell and pulled the blankets around her. She was wearing nothing but a hospital gown and was no doubt feeling self-conscious about her state of undress and being along with a fuming Professor.

"Tell me Miss Granger," he said, hands gripping the end of her bed, "do you consider yourself above all others?"

The moving sheets gathered his attention as he could visualise the movement of her feline tail coiling in annoyance at his questioning. Avoiding his question she fiddled with the edge of the blanket that covered her chest and shoulders.

"Sit up when I am talking to you Miss Granger!" he barked, eyes stabbing daggers into her own.

Reluctantly the girl sat up, her blanket falling down her chest to reveal soft brown fur pocking through the opening of her hospital gown. Crossing her arms, she finally looked at him with a face of shame.

"I'll ask again. Do you consider yourself above everyone else Miss Granger?"

"No Professor-"

"Then why did you see it prudent to steal what did not belong to you?"

"I-I didn't-" shaking the end of the bed the girl gasped as he came around and sat on the end of her bed on top of her tail. Her eyes watered and he felt the struggle of her trapped tail under his thigh but he did not relent. It gave him a sick satisfaction to see her in pain, a penance for her crime, as if being turned into a feline was not enough.

"Don't lie to me! Tell me the truth, you stole from my storages to make the Poly Juice potion for Potter didn't you Granger!"

"Y-Yes *ow-ow* please Professor," she cried, "get off it please, you are hurting me. You are hurting me!"

Applying more pressure to his thigh he leaned over, invading her space, he could see the fear in her eyes. After one last ounce of pressure he relented and he watched the tail retract towards the girl who whimpered and allowed several tears to fall.

"Seems that the cat is out of the bag, as it were-"

"I-I am sorry Professor Snape."

"I believe twenty points from Gryffindor and a month's detention is deserved Miss Granger," he sneered, rising from the bed, "Just be grateful that the decision to expel you, does not lie, with me. Do not attempt to pilfer my storage again."

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	3. Third Year

**3****rd**** Year**

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The girl sat in a self-important stupor which he had no desire to engage in but granted the girl needed to accept the consequences of her actions and he was never one to skimp on punishment.

"I expect those cauldrons to shine like new Miss Granger, why not make yourself useful for once?"

Still the girl sat, staring angrily into a first year cauldron, caked with _Boil Cure_ containing one too many porcupine quills. A cauldron brush in one hand and a pail in the other the girl gritted her teeth at the sound of his voice.

"Is something wrong Miss Granger?"

A mumble and the sound of a sloshing brush met his question but the answer was unsatisfactory. Stalking with blind determination he hovered over the girl who was determined to ignore him. The end of his cloak brushed across her back but she still refused to look at him and he resisted the urge to kick some 'sense' into her.

"I would show a little more integrity if I was you Miss Granger, after all, if you had not struck young Draco you would not have landed yourself in detention."

A resounding knock echoed the class room caused them both to look towards the source of the sound and then at each other. The girl was mid-scrub and the bubbly detergent popped softly against her skin and her nails dug hard into the pine wood scrubber. Rubbing an arm across her forehead, she accidentally smeared bubbles through her tightly pulled hair. She raised a brow at him in challenge as an offender knocked once again on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Are you not going to answer that Professor Snape?" she questioned him, turning back to her duty.

He was never fond of colours, which was obvious by his attire, but at that very moment all he saw was the colour red. Flicking his wand at the cauldron she was busying herself attentively with, he flew it out of her grip, smashing it into the wall. Stunned, the girl stared horrified up at him, drenched in soap suds and dissolved _Boil Cure_. Baring his teeth he pointed his wand to the door and whispered in a deathly low voice.

"I think you should answer it _Miss Granger._"

Slowly the girl rose and stood before him, shirt soaked revealing the outline of her under clothes. Sighing she turned and marched towards the door and opened it a fraction to reveal Professor Lupin who stared at her with surprise to say the least.

"Miss Granger? What are you doing here?"

Before she could open her mouth she felt the piercing eyes of her Professor. Feeling the intensity of his stare she replied.

"I am serving detention Professor Lupin."

"Oh is that so? Whatever for Miss Granger?"

"For punching Draco in the face."

"Well, that would just about do it. Is Professor Snape in there as well?"

Turning her head slightly she saw him sneering loathingly at her, wand gripped tightly in his hand and a look a sour determination to end the life of the Professor before her. Politely she said;

"No he isn't Professor, he just stepped out."

The other man looked at her sceptically but did not press the matter further and wished her a good evening. Slowly closing the door the girl felt his presence by her side. Looking up through escaped curls that were drying on her forehead, the girl saw his eyes glisten with madness.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor." he stated.

"W-what why?!"

"Isn't it obvious? Clean this mess and get the hell out."

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	4. Fourth Year

**4****th ****Year**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**4****th**** year.**

The sobbing was something he couldn't stand for, even on those occasions when he was the cause. It was ear piercing and was vocally designed to rip the soul and provoke sympathy from even hearts of stone but his heart was not stone, it was made of muscle, soft tissue and blood and his heart bled for no one.

"Get up."

Pools of hazelnut implored he leave her be but he was stubborn and could stand her sorrow no longer. It was proving bothersome.

"Get up Miss Granger or I _will_ deduct points for your insolence."

He could not even begin to imagine how the girl made it through the perimeter into one of the outdoor secluded gardens. It was only by chance that he found her. Karkaroff was impressing his personal fears onto him while they were within ear shot of the Yule Ball and watchfully spying for troublemakers when he heard the woeful sighs. Excusing himself, Karkaroff left him to investigate into the unholy noise.

The girl was slumped behind an overgrown hedge. Coiled over her knees and hugging her legs she was crying softly, but not softly enough for him not to notice. The girls dress was rumpled and reflected the dull moon light, it fell up her thigh to reveal the shapeliness of her upper thigh. At the sound of his approach she shoved the dress back down to protect her innocence from preying eyes and his own.

"Granger, I am losing my patience with you. I suggest you get up right now and go back to your common room, it is well after hours."

"Go away." She muttered softly.

"Excuse me?" he asked bewildered.

"I said 'Go away'."

"Stupid girl, how dare you speak to me in such a manner, ten points from Gryffindor!"

"Just leave me alone!" the girl screamed, burying her head towards her lap.

"If you do not get up this instant and march yourself back to your common room I will take a further ten points. Do you understand?"

The girl refused to answer him and continued to sob into her newly ruined dress. The curls that she had been working on all afternoon came loose from their sticking charms and rolled down the arc of her back, catching leaves from the overgrown hedge behind her. He stood unsure of himself for a moment before making the decision to kneel in front of the girl.

"Miss Granger," he said, "I do not care for the reason why you are crying and I would desire nothing more than to leave you to your own devices in the hopes that eventually you will cry yourself hoarse and to the point where you are no longer able to talk ever again. Unfortunately, as my pupil I have an obligation to ensure that you make it safely to your common room before the night is out and I am sure as the sky is dark that I will not be spending the remainder of this night tending to your 'womanly' tantrums. So, I suggest you pick up that ridiculously pink frock of yours before I throw you over my shoulder and take you there myself. Which would you prefer?"

Slowly the girl raised her head and looked him square in the eyes, there was no challenge, only sadness. Gingerly she pushed herself into a kneeling position as well, hair a fright, like a miniature Whomping Willow and her disgustingly pink dress covered in melted snow.

"Yes Professor." She sighed.

Rising together they walked towards the direction of Gryffindor tower.

"Ten points from Gryffindor Miss Granger."

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	5. Fifth Year

**5****th**** Year**

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The girl was patrolling his corridor again, as if something were to happen down this side of this castle. Those who wander too far from their burrows are more likely not to survive the night in the event of an attack. Leaving the door to his office open was not a usual habit but in the occupation of Umbridge, he felt it was a necessity to keep him alert and prevent him from becoming comfortable behind closed doors. It also allowed him to watch the girl, which he found himself doing a little more than he should. There was something about her that made his skin crawl, something that made him want to cast an inflation charm until she exploded. He was finding her presence inconvenient yet he was drawn.

The girl was up to something.

Once again, he heard the determined trot of the girl making her way up the hallway, she would walk past his office and continue down the hall, no doubt in search of trouble makers and rule defilers. Now that she was a Gryffindor Prefect she has quite the little ego to carry on her girl had quite the sway in her walk and he noticed that her skirts were rivalling the shortness of her peers and wondered if this was the result of social assimilation or youthful defiance. These kinds of thoughts bothered him so, and it was moments like these that he was thankful for his mental ability.

"Professor Snape?"

He looked up to find her wanting on the other side of his desk. Failing to notice her saunter into his room angered him and he spat;

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

Dumbfounded the girl gapped at him and placed her hands on the curve of her hip.

"Excuse me? What for?!"

"For entering my office without prior permission, your position of Gryffindor Prefect does not grant you the allowance to take over whatever space you so please within the castle Miss Granger. Learn to understand the order of hierarchy. Headmaster, Masters, Professors, Head students, Prefects and students, you are no better than a glorified student Miss Granger and I suggest you know your place before barging into my office and making your convoluted demands!"

"I did not ask for anything Professor I was going to tell you that I had finished patrolling the corridors for the night."

He did not have anything to say to that and as the girl stood there, brows raised and chest heaving, he desperately wished she would disappear and never return. Standing from his desk, he round it to stand beside her; the girl came up to his breast, her wild hair pinned haphazardly behind the nape of her neck and her Prefect badge shone brightly like the evening star.

"Might I suggest consorting with the secondary Prefect in charge of tonight's patrol Miss Granger rather than burdening me with your first world problems. If I might add, if you are so finished your patrol then you are in fact breaking curfew by bothering me with your presence?"

The girl was flaring her nostrils and her eyes dazzled defiantly in the dimly lit light. He felt and over whelming urge to push the girl over the desk and silence her for good, among other things, but for tonight he drew the line.

"Get back to your common room Miss Granger, before I decide to deduct further points for your disregard for curfew. You are a Prefect perhaps you should begin to behave like one."

Abruptly the girl turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

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	6. Sixth Year

**6****th**** Year**

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He often wondered whether all the lying, suffering and excruciating pain he endured on a daily basis at the hands of Albus Dumbledore and the despicable witches and wizards he was unfortunate to come across was worth dedicating his life to the 'cause'. Sometimes he thought it would be much easier if he simply vanished and on occasion he even hoped to be put out of his misery (by anyone really) but in the great scheme of things he learned to be thankful for small miracles.

Legilimency was one of them.

Invading the mind gave him a sense of power and power, was something that he craved for himself. If he could have no power over his own life, something or someone had to give; and tonight it was the girl.

"What are you doing out after curfew Miss Granger?" he began his inquisition.

The girl was visibly shaken, hair tussled, and her chest heaving and eyes on the verge of tears, something that he did not wish to endure again. It was by chance that he came across her upon leaving Slughorn's Christmas party; he had been an undesignated overseer at the party, after his 'friendly chat' with Draco, the vampire Sanguini had taken his unfortunate interest. While he would never initiate a confrontation with a legitimate vampire he was cautious of the affect the humanoid was having on the children and feared the repercussions that would occur if he were to allow the vampire to feed on the children. On the departure of the vampire, who licked his lips fiendishly in his direction, he made his move to finally vacate the god awful party.

That is when he happened on the girl, down the corridor and to the right, in an abandoned classroom. And she had not been alone.

If there was one thing he could not stand for above all others it was carnal explorations, especially if they were Gryffindor students.

"I w-was at Professor Slughorn's Christmas party Professor Snape." She sniffed in trepidation, staring into his dark eyes.

"Yeah Professor, Granger and I was just coming back from the party." Oinked the swine.

He never did care much for McLaggen as a student and he especially did not care to see him with his arms locked possessively around the girl, whose eyes pleaded release, and for the retrieval of her wand that seemed to have been thrown by the swine in play for dominance. Sneering he grabbed the swine by the collar and hauled him off the girl.

"DID I ASK YOU MR MCLAGGEN?" he growled fiercely into the boy's ear, "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT AND BACK TO YOUR DORMITORY IMMEDIATELY!"

The swine flew out the door and onto his arse, the door slammed loudly behind him.

He huffed and puffed to regain his composure and the girl adopted a cautious gratitude.

"Thank yo-"

"Legilimens!"

He knew he was hurting the girl, her pupils were erratically dilating and her breathing had hitched considerably but he was selfishly driven to know if anything had happened to the girl. Not that he truly cared. Memories flashed before him and he purposely riffled through each one, learning her thoughts, seeing her dreams, divulging her passions and when he finally found the memory in question, revealing tonight's events, he surfaced and found himself bending over the girl, thighs pressing together, pinning her to the table with his free hand.

The girl was silently sobbing.

Slowly, he retracted from her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor Miss Granger, you are after all, out past curfew."

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**Hope you enjoyed this 600 word drabble! Please let me know what you think :D**


	7. The Night The World Changed

**The Night The World Changed**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

Surely he was going around the twist. Times were dark and any hope of reprieve were dashed every time he had to tactfully refrain one of the Carrow's from using the Cruciatus curse on a student for too long. His mind was beginning to go loopy he must admit, he spend many of his waking hours conversing with portraits and had little contact with others. And in those few hours that he managed to sleep each night he envisioned the horrific displays he witnessed throughout his life and on a daily basis; and when the nightmares were becoming too much, he would endure endless days on a cocktail of potions and elixirs.

Hogwarts had truly gone to hell in his time as Headmaster.

His Dark Mark burned with the intensity of a cigarette burn and he knew Potter was in the castle. Now was a time to act, stay alive and vigilant. He stalked the corridors with the strongest shielding charm he could muster in search of Potter for he had much to relay, yet how he would do so was still unclear to him. It was then, when he uncovered the girl running down the hall, did he seize the opportunity to snatch her.

It was not until he had her bound to a chair inside a nearby classroom did he relieve the girl from her muted disposition, which had been necessary after all.

"You traitor, how could you do this to us! Dumbledore trusted you, we all trusted you, I can not believe you selfish and utter bastard!"

"My, my Miss Granger, what a mouth the open road has given you. Twenty points from Gryffindor for your potty mouth." He said snidely, conjuring an empty vial from his pocket.

"Don't patronise me, let me go!"

Silencing the girl once more with the silencing charm he took two selfish seconds to look at her once more. In the months of separation, the girl had matured and looked older, beyond her age. Her hair was a frightful mess pulled into a messy bun and her clothes appeared soiled and torn. Quickly, he began to get to work, extracting memory after memory from his mind while the girl watched, split between curiosity and disgust.

She was silently mouthing him off and in amongst the moment of lunacy, he allowed a chuckle.

"Miss Granger, you can curse at me all you like, no one will hear you scream."

He watched in delight as she prattled on silently and in his delirium, he began to antagonise her.

"I heard you have had quite the adventure gallivanting around the country side while your fellow peers have been here studying," he sneered, "I heard you even paid a visit to Bellatrix, not the brightest move I might add, yet you know that now, don't you?"

After extracting the last of the memories necessary for Potter he released the silencing charm but he was met with no screams, only small whimpers and sighs, it sounded pathetic. Looking up he found the girl had freed one of her arms (amazingly) it contained crudely drawn slang and his dark heart twisted slightly.

"I see."

They shared a moment; hazel upon ebony and the girl harboured confusion.

"_Imperio!"_ The girl's beautiful eyes glazed over, "Miss Granger, these memories are for Potter's eyes ONLY and you are to deliver them by _any_ means necessary, only then will this curse lift."

He inserted his memories into the girl, and once the deed was done he unbound the girl and fled in search of Potter, leaving the girl to cry fresh tears.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

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	8. Life After Potter

**Life After Potter**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

It was a coincidence that he found her, after about a year of searching, he found the girl among those who continued to defy the Dark Lord. Raising a thickly gloved hand, he ordered his team of Deathmen to retrieve the mudbloods from their hiding place in the attic. It was a pureblood who was hiding them, and for such treason, Andromeda Tonks was sentenced to rehabilitation, a fate worse than death.

In the new world, it had become clear that killing all who opposed the Dark Lord was depleting the wizarding world's population considerably, so the rehabilitation project was implemented for wayward half-bloods and pure bloods that did not agree with the fundamentals of mudblood magic extraction and enslavement. In short, if you objected to his desires, you eventually would come around to accept his stance as your own, through means of Obliviation and Dark Magic.

He thought the girl had died; with Potter and so many others. He had hoped that she had, but a selfish part of him hoped she had survived.

"Miss Granger" he nodded.

The girl was less than thrilled to see him, not that he expected any less from her, their last meeting had not been pleasant for her.

Thankfully, he had only ever asked the Dark Lord one favour in his life, and it had gone unheeded, so upon the girls capture, he asked for her as bounty. He was rewarded without a second thought.

The girl sat slumped on a chair, dressed in a shapeless brown dress that marked her no greater than a house elf. They sat together, in his opinion, a comfortable silence, and he observed her, taking in her knotted curls and gaunt appearance.

"Your capture has made front page of the Daily Prophet," he said casually stirring his coffee.

The girl ignored him, "Why am I here?" she asked quietly.

"Potter lost Miss Granger," said Snape nonchalantly, "he is dead and you are now a spoil of victory. I am aware that you have been living in filth for nigh a year now, but even a clever girl such as yourself should realise this. You are to be my servant."

The girl stared directly into his eyes, heart ache and despair clearly etched into every wrinkle that was created in the months of their separation.

"Why me?" she asked.

"Why not?" he stated, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

He drank his coffee and she avoided his gaze, he found that her eyes had no where near the vibrancy they once had.

"What happened to _you,_ Professor?" she hissed, her voice cracking.

Swallowing tightly at the sound of his former title, he was unsure how to answer her. He understood that she was the only living person to date that knew of his motives during the Voldewars and in turn, some inkling towards his 'true' allegiance. She hadn't told anyone, he could tell, as her viewing of his memories were secondary and for her, they were a feeling at best, the girl would be unsure if anything.

"I am no longer your Professor, but since you seem quite content on living in the past Miss Granger, I'll indulge you. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"_I thought you were with us-_" The girl said into her hands. He tensed his thighs under the table. Reaching over the table, he snatched the girl's hands and held it tightly in his own. She struggled to release them and he applied more pressure, to the point where it hurt her.

"I am afraid you were mistaken." His eyes bore into hers, yes; darkness won.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

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***Thank you IND520 for your consistent comments, you are quite encouraging and I am glad you are liking the story. Also, thank you to The Knight Princess and Mama Shmi**


	9. A Moment of Remembrance

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**A Moment Of Remembrance**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

"Excuse me, Master?"

The girl entered the study with obligated determination that made him wish that she would turn around and get the hell out of his sight. Somehow the girl had mastered the ability to find him in any room in the house, even if he was disillusioned, which puzzled him indeed. The closer she approached him, the more she seemed to feel his anger radiating around the room at her disturbance. Casting her eyes to the floor she approached his desk and waited patiently.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently, enthralled by his recent findings on the uses of Acromantula silk.

"Master Longbottom is at the door for you, Master."

Looking up, he could tell the girl was agitated. For all he knew, this was probably the first time she was realising that there were a few of her friends that were not lucky enough to have died. Longbottom, along with many other purebloods and half-bloods were rehabilitated and assimilated easily back into wizarding society. The Longbottom she knew, however, was long gone, replaced by a boy who was the perfect example of purist prejudice.

"What does he want?" he groaned, rolling one of his scrolls and tying it with thin twine.

"Master Longbottom said, 'The matter is no concern to a mudblood.' So I am afraid I cannot answer that question."

Rising from his desk, he came around to stand in front of the girl, who stood with a ridged spine that made her seem proper and regel, even in her bland clothing.

"Does it bother you to hear him, disregard you?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

The girl did not answer; no doubt she felt it improper. She had found it difficult at first to assimilate into the role of a subordinate but in time she gave into the fact that she was no longer known as the brightest witch of her age, but a mudblood servant, whom no one wanted to be bothered with.

"You will provide an answer, when I ask you a question, girl."

"No Master," she said, her eyes glazed over, "it does not matter to me."

While he felt a small pang at her lack of spunk, he knew she was distraught, but she was a smart girl, nothing she could ever say would bring her friend back to her.

"Very well."

Longbottom was the very last person he wished to see, he despised the boy and what he now embodied. His treatment of the boy was a distant memory, all his hard work of antagonising him ruined and now he had the nerve to seek him at his home. The girl followed dutifully behind him, mirroring his footsteps. Longbottom greeted him as he opened the door.

"Snape!" the boy grinned, extending his hand.

He ignored it, "What do you want, Longbottom? Surely an owl could have sufficed."

"Yes, several owls should have sufficed, but I never seem to have them returned."

He sneered at the boy, "One has to eat."

The boy seemed reproachful at the notion but instead instigated his purpose of visit, "Oh, w-well, I am here on Hogwarts business. Have you made the decision yet? You'll have to fight for Defence Against the Dark Arts but Potions is yours -"

"No."

"But -"

"No."

"Please see reason!"

He slyly looked beside him to see the girl standing behind the opened door, head down and hands into small fists that tensed every time Longbottom spoke. Putting the girl out of her misery, he slammed the door in Longbottom's face.

"Go and prepare the evening meal."

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

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	10. A Night For Curiosity

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**A Night For Curiosity**

***WARNING: activity of a sexual nature/interactive voyeurism.**

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The girl always sleeps restlessly. She slept in her own room, a storey down from his own room, but he could still hear her tossing and turning through the floor boards of old Grimmauld Place.

He adopted the home as his own, taking sick pleasure in burning everything remotely Black related, especially the portrait of Mrs. Black, once he had managed to remove it. No one of pure nobility wanted the hovel, it had served host to traitors during the Voldewars, but he did not mind of course, and after working his magic, it became quite a homely establishment.

And he used the term loosely.

Again, he heard her groan in her sleep, as if she was being agitated by something. Rising from his bed he wandered down the corridor in search of her room. Slowly he opened the door to find half her body hanging off the bed, lost in sleep, in some unknown nightmare. The sheet around her was strangling her torso, pulling her pyjama bottoms low enough to make out the dip of her pelvis, in the light from the doorway.

He would never interfere with her sleep, only watch her struggle, as there was nothing he could do for her. He was forbidden to give mudbloods potions, and as much as he desired the girls company, he was not willing to place his status (and life) on the line to give her one decent nights rest.

"Stop. . ."

The girl's voice was soft, like velvet, and he frowned at the request. Slowly, the girl began to fall from the bed, the sheets pulling down her bottoms and from the moment he saw the tight curls covering her pubis, he felt it necessary to act. With artful grace he crossed the room and cradled her head before it hit the ground. The moment he touched her, he felt her body tense, as if she knew someone was touching her. As he lifted her from her awkward position, her eyes peeled open to reveal pupils lost in sleep.

"Professor?" she asked.

It was unusual for him to hear her address him with such a dated title; today she knew him as Master and nothing more. Ignoring the error, he began to untangle her nimble body from the sheet and answered her harshly;

"Yes?"

"What are you -" The girl did not finish her question, but made strange noises that suggested she had drifted back to sleep and was unaware of his presence. Thankful for her blissfulness he continued to untangle her, he did not wish her to see him in a moment of weakness, as he was normally quite cruel to her.

"You are disturbing my slumber Miss Granger," he whispered with haste, "How many times must I come down to stop you from falling onto the floor and breaking your neck? I know that is your unconscious intention."

As he reached down pull the unwound sheet, over her now resting form, her peeking pubis caught his attention and he hesitated. He found restraining discipline while in the girls company a challenge at best but lost in the moment of her unconsciousness; he found he could not help himself, and touched her.

Gently, he ran his fingers through her brittle curls, and over the feminine curve of her mound. A sigh broke the heavy silence, from who he could not say, and he steadied his fingers. To his surprise, once his fingers stopped their movement, the girl responded in repose, and willingly pushed her mound into the curvature of his hand, as if craving more contact.

"Curious."

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

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	11. The Year The Marriage Law Passed

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**The Year The Marriage Law Passed**

***WARNING: mentions of a sexual nature.**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

"Severus, please see reason. You must do your part to keep the wizarding world thriving. I am just as unenthusiastic as yourself, the world could do with a few less half-bloods but unfortunately without you, the pureblood numbers, well there are not enough of us I am afraid."

He sat down the end of his resplendent dining table, all organised for the benefit of his companion, who had taken great measures to convince himself to enter the Grimmauld Place premise. His companion placed the cracked tea cup distastefully on the saucer, and patted the corners of his mouth with an embroidered handkerchief.

"I am not interested in _marriage_, Lucius," he stated, "why must I be subjected to such an absurd atrocity?"

His companion narrowed his eyes in annoyance and tapped his tea cup twice, refilling it with tea.

"You are in the age bracket required and your mother was of purest blood. You are the perfect candidate for such an arrangement. We are dying out Severus, you must help us continue the wizarding blood lines and strengthen the community. I have already assembled a list of viable candidates, none of them former students -"

"I requested to the Dark Lord -"

"The Dark Lord wishes for you to be a part of the solution Severus, _not_ the problem. You need to find yourself a half blood, marry her, fill her womb with children and simply benefit from the splendours of wedded life. Narcissa is pregnant and Draco is having his second child that is three more pureblood births from our family, we are doing our part. What are you doing, Severus?"

At that moment, the girl entered the room with a tray of food, which she had been busily preparing. The remnants of sticky jam were coating her hair line and she smelled sweet of fruit in season. He tried his best not to acknowledge her presence in front of his friend who was 'ever watching' but as she placed the tray on the table, he could not help but notice the pertness of her breasts, barely touching the fabric of her dress.

"Researching the potential of dark potions, obviously. After all the Dark Lord so requested my expertise, Lucius. I have no time to entertain another."

"Is that so, Severus?" asked his friend slyly, also eyeing the girl, "Yes, you do seem rather busy with your research . . . and the mudblood."

The girl froze at her mention and hurried to take the items off the tray. With lightening reflexes, his companion jumped to his feet and slammed the girls face into the table and held her down.

"Sleeping with the servant, Severus? You do realise that relations with mudbloods is punishable by death?"

He did not flinch, the reaction was inevitable.

"I am aware, Lucius."

His calmness unnerved his companion, who now doubted his actions. Flicking his hair back with an air of arrogance, his companion lifted the back of the girls dress, revealing her posterior.

"Shall we test your dedication to the solution, Severus?" placing the tip of his wand at the girl's entrance.

He stared at girl's behind. The hold on the girl's clothing had placed pressure on her underwear, revealing the suppleness of her lips through the thin fabric. The girl struggled but said nothing. He could feel her eyes upon him, as if waiting for some unjust punishment.

He had never slept with the girl, and the amber glow emitting from his companion's wand demonstrated so.

"If you are quite finished accosting _my _servant Lucius, please release her. She has quite the mess to clean from the table."

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

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	12. A Blessing In Disguise

**A Blessing In Disguise**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

He stood over the basin in his private laboratory, holding the results of the long awaited tests in his hand. While he was relieved that the burden of child rearing would never be thrust upon him, he still felt a strange feeling, it was distant of course, but if he ever so chose to have children, it would never be a decision he could make.

It was a good thing that he hated children.

At least he could now finally end his courtship with that god awful woman that Lucius had forced onto him.

"A blessing in disguise." He muttered apathetically.

Calling his owl Heron, he tied the results to her leg and asked her kindly to send them to Lucius and not to bother 'consolidating' him. Once the owl flew out the window, he turned to continue washing his cauldron by hand, but found the girl waiting expectantly for him.

"What is it?" he growled, turning back to his basin.

"I have finished organising your storages, I am sorry that it took me an extra day but there was a small pocket of devil's snare growing in the corner. I subdued it with the salt, I also labelled everything a little more clearly so that you do not confuse the foxglove with the fluxweed again."

"You subdued devil snare with salt." he stated incredulously, "Did it manage to get a hold of you?"

"Yes it did." She said lamely.

"Show me where." He droned, as if scolding a small child for not erring on the side of caution.

The girl hesitated before complying, obviously she did not wish to show him, for what ever reason. Hastily she lifted up her dress to reveal dark bruises forming around her waist and as quickly as she lifted, she pulled down her dress, until he stopped her suddenly by grabbing her wrist. He adorned a look of impassiveness, as he traced the beginnings of her bruises lightly. The girl gasped, the light contact causing her pain and he allowed her to drop her dress.

"You were quite foolish to handle devil snare without a wand. Come here."

He sat down at his desk and motioned the girl to come forward, to stand between his legs. With a flourish of his wand, he had summoned bandages, ice and placed strong wards upon the room. It would be improper for him to help a mudblood, attention he did not wish thrust upon him, so unlike the girl, he aired on the side of caution. She hesitated to obey him when he asked her to remove her dress.

"If you refuse, I will be unable to tend to your bruises."

Slowly, she removed her dress and he sat back in his chair, scrutinising her. Underneath the garment, she wore basic essentials to cover her feminine gifts. The years had left her body malnourished, and if she had been heavier, she'd be quite curvaceous as her hips were quite wide. He rolled the bandage around her waist and ordered her to place pockets of ice, as he pulled the bandage tight. Tucking the end of the bandage under, his finger traced the edge of the bandage, barely touching her skin.

"Is that tight enough?" he asked.

"Yes." She said, placing her hand over his, "Thank you."

He stared at her hand over his own, and dared not to look at her. Giving the girl hope was something he could not bring himself to do.

She should have died, he had decided, and until the day she finally entered the veil, he will continue to pity her.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? Oh you surely jest.**


	13. The Result Of Research

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**The Result Of Research**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

"Is it true?" said the girl, interrupting his concentration.

"Is what?" he asked nonchalantly, not looking up from his potion.

"This article by Rita Skeeter?" she asked.

He looked up to find her waving a copy of the Daily Prophet, rolled into a long tube, as if she were planning to take to the Quidditch pit and assume the position of beater.

"Where did you get that from?" he asked distastefully, the girl ignored him and began to read.

_"'Sir Severus Snape, a forgotten relic and devoted servant to our Master, the Dark Lord Voldemort, recently opened his doors for the first time ever for an interview with little old me . . ."_

Scrunching his nose up in disgust, he reached over his cauldron to snatch the paper from the girl, who began to back away from him.

_"'- Not only is this man legendary in his magical ability, he has been working tirelessly since the demise of the Boy-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to create potions to rid our world of the mudblood infestation, once and for all. And I am proud to be the one to announce that he is only months away from completion.' _Is this what you have been working on, muggleborn abolishing potions?"

A heavy silence filled the room, surely the girl knew what he was doing, he left his notes open around the laboratory.

"I think you have over stepped your bounds, girl. You know you are forbidden to read anything of magical origin."

"Don't even start with that, I know you leave potion books open around the house so that I may _read_ them!"

"You are delusional -"

"Tell me this isn't true, after all these years of toiling away down here, tell me you are not creating a potion to destroy magic within muggleborns. You have taken away our wands, our lives, our will to live, what could you possibly gain from taking away part of our very being? Is servitude not enough?"

The girl was heaving, with 'murder she will' written on her face. She threw the Prophet at him and he dodged it easily. Her expectations had come as a complete surprise to him, he treated her with cruelty and any hopes she had, of him secretly being on her side, had been washed and dried years ago.

"My life's work is none of _your_ business girl, you are but a mere servant and I suggest you calm down or -"

"or what? You will destroy me? Fine, I don't want to witness your _solution_. You are a despicable man Severus Snape and I am going to stop you."

"Really? And how do you expect to succeed?" he asked calmly, rounding the cauldron to walk towards her.

Panicking at his movement, she picked up a gillyweed blade for protection and answered;

"I-I'll burn this place to the ground."

"And then what," he asked curiously, deliberately slowing his pace, "What will you do then?"

"I will run."

"Where will you go? All your friends are gone."

"ANYWHERE!" she sobbed, tears falling from her vibrant eyes, he had not seen her this way for many years, his chest swelled at the sight, "Anywhere but here!"

He accio'd the knife, leaving her defenceless, and even in this state, the fire in her eyes burned, with the intensity of the sun.

"You would not last a minute outside this house, girl, however you are more than welcome to try. But until the time comes, you are better off here staying here, safe, with me. And you can thank my years of research for that."

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? Speak up, I can't hear you.**


	14. A Visit From Riddle

**A Visit From Riddle**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

"My Lord, I have managed to suppress the _inferior _magic but many of the subjects die as a result." he offered monotonously, pouring his master another cup of tea.

It was only the two of them in his tiny office; his laboratory was full of bubbling potions and caged muggleborns waiting to be tested on. His master had arrived to enquire on his progress and unfortunately, the potion testing was proving more fatal than initially intended. He could only stand the sight of failure so much, and detaching himself from the horrors he witnessed everyday was causing him to recede into the madness.

"Severus," sneered his master, "I have seen enough _waste_, I _want_ to see alive and magic-less mudbloods."

He remained silent. Holding his hands at his sides.

"And what of your servant?" asked his master curiously, "Is she another point of failure?"

Taking control of his thoughts, he looked into his masters cold eyes. His master was dressed resplendent in elegant black robes, with emerald fringe and silver buttons.

"Quite the opposite my Lord," he said, not too confidently, "she continues to fight the potion's effects; it proves beneficial for the research. The girl is still in a comatose state. I expect her full recovery."

The girl had finally submitted to his testing after a great struggle. He eventually resorted to tying her down much to his own chagrin. He couldn't leave her untested, it would arouse unnecessary suspicion and he was losing favour everyday he came up empty, with more filthy blood on his hands.

He kept her safe in her room, monitoring charms hovering around her, hoping for the best and the worst.

His master grinned in earnest.

"Wonderful Severus, only a true Slytherin could turn a failure into a success and take clinical satisfaction in the misery of others."

"My Lord, you are kind."

His master rose from the table after finishing his tea, and in a sincere form of respect, he rose as well and walked his master to the door.

"Severus," his master said, a hint of warning in his voice, "I grow impatient of waiting."

At the door, his master turned to face him.

"It is my sincere wish to rid the world of mudbloods, Severus."

"My Lord," He agreed, "It is a desire that I also share."

"It would be easier to murder them all. I am quite creative when it comes to plucking life, Severus, but unfortunately, until we increase our wizarding numbers and gain the alliance of our brothers in neighbouring ministries it is unwise to do so; your little potions will have to do."

"I live only to serve you my Lord," he assured his master, "I will not fail you."

"See that you don't!" hissed his master, walking out the door onto the front steps, "You have three months. Do not disappoint me."

After his master left, he locked the door and walked with heavy shoulders towards the girl's room. He took a seat beside the bed and placed her hand in his own. The girl's chest rose softly with each passing breathe and he watched her parted mouth.

"Life without magic, Miss Granger," he said, "You are better off dead."

Her skin was cold to touch but held a vibrancy to it as the potion flooded through her system; working to detoxify her body of the magic. A feat he once thought illogical and improbable but he once again proved himself wrong. Without limitations, potion making had made a dark turn.

_But a life without you, _he thought, _would be no life at all._

_**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**_

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***Thank you everyone who commented! There is lots more to come, I have created a timeline! **


	15. Amongst The Purists One Evening

**Amongst the Purists One Evening**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

Success was bittersweet, and through the jeers and joyous triumphs of the people around him he found no solace, no friendship and no gratitude. In his own home, he sat perched at the end of his long dining room table, overseeing two straight lines of blonde and ebony heads, of all ages and sizes. Children crying out in entitlement to their whorish mothers, painted with appalling paint, and staring adoringly at their fathers, who sat erect like Kings of the Round Table.

_His_ table was an exceedingly long rectangle and was for one – himself.

The noise was unbearable. Gossip of half-blood and pureblood relations, debate on politic ambiguity, discussions on the use of the mudshells (the magically extracted mudbloods) and the future of the wizarding world; his master sat at the other end of the table, ear crooning towards his advisor, Bellatrix, who whispered playfully into his ear and pointedly ignoring a three year old infant at her side.

Lucius sat to his side, discussing with him the possible uses for the mudshells at the Ministry.

"…but they should certainly be able to enter the Ministry, Severus! We always require more labourers."

"No send them to Hogwarts," offered Draco, "get them to clean and maintain the castle."

"Ew yukky!" came a small voice next to Draco, "I hate m-mudshells Daddy, and I don't want to go to Hogwarts if they are there!"

He rose from the table, eager to discover the hold up on the remaining course, the celebration in his honour had gone for long enough.

"If you will excuse me, I must check the preparations for the next course." He said quietly.

The table continued to bustle with chatter, as he exited the room into the adjacent kitchen. After the success of his potion, they had turned him into a bloody figure head for the 'solution' and an example for all half-bloods to follow. They were so pleased that his Master had insisted on the party, in his own house, in his honour, even though his house had once been own by traitors.

The kitchen was busy with house elves and mudshells. Cooking up a storm, extension charms allowing for larger basins, longer stove tops and more cutting space; the house elves were busy creating the next dish; Yorkshire puddings and roast beef. The mudshells were busy washing the used cutlery and dishware by hand, and in the middle of it all, stood the girl.

She was elbow deep in a large bowl, kneading dough, in preparation for desert. Her hair was tied at the nape and there were splotches of flour on her cheek. Her brow was pinched in concentration and she was keeping her distance from the mudshells, as some of them she knew from Hogwarts.

"When will the next course be ready?" he asked, approaching her.

Not looking up the girl replied wearily.

"Now, Master."

On que, the house elves placed the meal on plates and the mudshells filed out to serve the food, leaving him alone with the girl and the house elves.

"What are you making?" he asked lamely, even though he knew.

"Scones, Master." She answered shortly, knowing that he knew.

Rolling the dough onto the table she began to section it out, he admired her skill and her nimble hands.

"Master Snape, should be out having the lovely dinner, not spending time with a mudblood." Said Winky the house elf, she then began pushing him out of the kitchen.

Risking a peek behind him, he saw the girl tuck a stray strand behind her ear, and a ghost of a smile.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? I hope you did, all for you, let me know if you approve in a comment.**


	16. High Tea With Three Blind Purists

**High Tea With Three Blind Purists**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

"You see Severus, we think it would be a splendiferous idea for you to come to Hogwarts and give the children a lecture on the benefits of your _Purificatio _Potion," said Madame Longbottom, whose radish earring bobbed annoyingly from side to side as she spoke, "Neville is dying to see you."

"We want everyone to understand that mudshells are nothing to be feared, the ministry controls them." smiled Madame Malfoy, taking a sip of tea out of politeness.

"You are the most qualified to talk about the effects of the potion, Severus. You created the potion, AND you are a half-blood. No offence." added Madame Weasley, who folded her hands, one over the other on her knee, refusing the offered tea cup.

He was in the seventh level of hell.

"None taken, Madame Weasley-"

"Please call me Lavender!"

"As you wish, Lavender," he bit, "and as much as I am enjoying Luna, Astoria and your company, I must confess that I have no interest of going back to Hogwarts and I must decline."

The women eyed each other in dissatisfaction. He knew that they were silently plotting to get him to agree but he could not go back. It was bad enough that he had ex-students turn up at his house, unannounced, and trying to recruit him into their purity brigade. Ever since the creation of mudshells, muggleborns had become a novelty and an annoyance, and it was women like these who assorted their roles into society.

It was Madame Weasley who broke the silence.

"Do you _own_ a mudshell _Severus_?"

Eyes fell upon him and he felt a continental shift which gravitated in his direction.

"No." he stated, "I do not."

"But you own a mudblood," said Madame Weasley snidely, "Was Hermione too good for the _Purificatio_ potion?"

He had not heard that name in so long and it sounded horrible on that woman's tongue, like sandpaper, he wanted to lean across the table and rip it out.

"It proved ineffective against her magic," He replied stiffly, "I have created potions to suppress difficult magic."

"How interesting," said Madame Malfoy, rising from the table, "Well we must be off, children to feed and husbands to see."

As the three harpies made their way to the door, the girl came into view and unfortunately, the shock on her face did not go unnoticed. They laughed, as the girl scrambled to present herself in a pose of respect and servitude, kneeling down on the floor.

"Don't you look precious in your little brown dress Hermione," said Madame Weasley, "If only Ronald could see you now; perhaps I'll bring him next time."

"Bye Severus!" Shouted Madame Longbottom, as the women made their way down the foot path, "If you change your mind, send either of us an owl, or a blibbering humdinger."

Once the door was closed he could finally release his anger, smashing his fist into the back of the door, splintering the wood and his hand. It bled crimson over his wrists and he found it quickly covered by the girl's hands. She made quick work of the splinters and from nowhere, procured rubbing alcohol. He did not hiss at the contact but he winced at the pressure of her nimble fingers.

"Is Ronald alive, Master?" she asked quietly, now wrapping his wounds even though it would be quicker to heal the wounds with a simple charm, however, her ministrations felt more satisfying.

"No girl, he died long ago." He whispered softly, "that woman is senile."

The girl smiled sadly, tears beading at the corners of her eyes.

"Good."

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? Please let me know, I really appreciate feedback and it encourages me to keep writing.**

***Everyone is anticipating an unhappy ending. What are your thoughts?**


	17. The Ten Year Victory

**The Ten Year Victory**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

He stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside and it poured down with a thunderous intensity. Brining in the rain as he slammed the door behind him, he heaved off his large cloak, drenched in sweat and water and allowed it to fall to the ground. He stalked carefully down the corridor, careful not to trip over his own clumsy feet.

The tenth anniversary of Potter's demise left him blind as a bat.

Hogwarts played host to the celebrations and _everyone_ had attended the party. He was not aware how the first butter beer made it into his hand and he had absolutely no idea how he managed to drain his fifth firewhiskey. Needless to say, he was a man who did not usually partake, and as such, it was a miracle he made it home in the end.

Making his way into the kitchen, he rummaged through a vial cabinet, looking for a cure for his intoxication.

"Master?"

Turning around he saw two of the girl, standing there in the doorway. Their faces blended into each other, as if embracing, and he found himself more than a little uncomfortable.

"Bugger off." He drolled, turning back to the cabinet. He failed to hear the soft patter of footsteps as the girl came up beside him but the smell of her hair became quickly familiar to him.

"Where is it?!" he snapped, closing his eyes in anguish.

His ragged breathing the only noise in the room and it fell in comparison to the downpour outside. Opening his eyes, he saw the girl clearly for the first time and noticed that she sported swollen eyes. The girl reached into the cupboard and extracted the vial he needed. A deep purple hue and covered in dust.

"Here." She said softly.

He caught eye of her scarred arm in the dim light of the candles. It appeared illuminated on her sullen skin.

"Why are you awake?" he asked genuinely.

"To see if you were alri -"

"Lies."

"It's the truth. I thought you may need help."

He stared at her incredulously.

"You '_thought I may need help'_? On the tenth anniversary, we dance on the graves of your fallen brethren and as I come home from such shenanigans you offer your _assistance_?"

"_Yes_," she hissed, a long extinguished fire relighting her eyes, "It is my duty to you _Master."_

"What would you know of duty you stupid twit?!" he shoved her hard and her back hit the edge of the countertop.

Wincing, she righted herself and said scathingly;

"What would _you_ know?"

"Mind your tongue, least I rip it from your mouth."

"You'd _love _that wouldn't you."

"No I would not, however, if it results in your silence, I'd be more than happy to."

"Go on then. I wouldn't have to refer to you as _Master_ ever again!"

"Even better, your servitude does nothing but remind me of the follies of our past, I wish I had _never_ found you. Imbecilic enough for capture and foolish enough to -"

He caught her hand before she could slap him.

"Shut up!" she screamed, "I have had enough of your self-pity. You have made your bed, now lie in it!"

Pulling the girl in towards him, he purred menacingly into her ear, sending a shiver down her back.

"You helped make this bed girl, why don't you join me, and lie down?"

The girl fell limp in his arms and he pocked his wand. Uncorking the vial, he drank the contents and gently lowered her to the floor. With a new found clarity, he marched out of the kitchen, in search of his own bed.

Alone.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? Happy tenth anniversary of the death of Potter, long may he rest.**

**Thank you everyone so much for all the wonderful comments, it is really inspiring to see that you are enjoying this story even though they are only 600 word drabbles. As you can tell, this story shows a moment in each year that Snape and Hermione are together and as time passes it ****_will_**** get worse but it will also get better. You can count on that :) Once I finish the story I might consider revisiting it in more detail because I like the concept behind it. **


	18. In The Knockturn Alley

**In The Knockturn Alley **

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

He felt the girl's presence behind him as he paid the cashier at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary; which was how it should be. It would be his luck if he were to lose her in the sea of people.

"Have a good day Sir."

The door jingled shut behind them as they exited the shop.

"Raise your hood." He muttered, "I will not remind you _again_."

After the girl raised her hood, he pocketed his recently purchased items and swiftly made his way up the cobble path, hoping that the girl would continue to match his long strides. She had learned the hard way, long ago, not to fall behind.

They had one more stop before they could venture home, for which he was thankful. No one recognised him any more, but there was always one in a crowd that would spoil his anonymity. Sparing a glance, he looked back to see the girl's head bowed, the hood covering her face from view.

"Here." He gestured with a subtle direction of his hand and together they wandered into Knockturn Alley.

Knockturn Alley had taken a turn for the worst in the new order. There were more dark wizards and witches, unspeakable potions and dark trinkets for purchase and it was commonplace to see dragon hatchlings being sold on alley corners.

Passing by a homeless wizard who leered at them, they came upon a hidden door, barely noticeable by those who were not seeking its entrance.

He knocked thrice and after a few minutes it opened a fraction to reveal two brown blood-shot eyes.

"What do _you_ bleedin' want?"

"Open the door you miserable cretin."

"Dun' effin' think so, you aint spose to be droppin' til next week. Bugger off."

"Change of circumstances, Fletcher."

"Well you'll be disappointed, I aint got what you want!" The thief noticed the girl behind him, "Who's the bit then? Youse meant to come _alone_ anyway."

"None of your business."

"She wearin' a red band," the thief leered, pointing at the girls arm, "Youse best come back when you aint got a mudblood, I'm tryin' to runna business."

The door slammed in his face and it vanished from his sight. Balling his fists he stared angrily at the wall. The thief had long since promised a trinket he most desired. He was not one to desire much these days, as he cared for nothing and merely lived each day because he could. The trinket in question was sentimental, though he did not own it, his fractured soul should benefit upon its return to the owner.

"Oh-ho a mudblood. That's rare these days, how much would you care for it?"

He turned to find a tall wizard of ill repute, circling the girl and sizing her up.

"How does five galleons sound?"

He sneered at the man and made to grab the girl.

"_She_ is not for sale."

The wizard's face pinched in false familiarity and waved his wand at the girl's midriff, smiling as his wand emitted an amber glow.

"And in mint condit' blimey, come on then, let me 'ave it! I own _The Maiden Head _down the pathway there, it'll make a pretty profit for first crack, mudbloods are novelty you see Sir. You seem like a reasonable man, tell you what, after it's had its first way, I'll let yer visit whenever yer like, half price."

"Sod off you drunken twit."

Grabbing the girls shoulder he pulled her in towards him into an embrace and apparated with a loud crack outside Grimmauld.

He held onto her longer than he should have, and so did she.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? What do you think Snape is trying to get off Mundungus Fletcher? Sly little thief he is.**


	19. Nightmare On Grimmauld Street

**Nightmare On Grimmauld Street**

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

"Wake up!"

Opening his eyes, he found the girl staring at him with obvious fatigue.

"I am sorry to wake you Master, but you were screaming," She said softly, "you were having a nightmare."

He stared at her with a sense of bizarre. The girl had never before come into his chambers while he slept; she would clean, if she could, during the day. He was so exhausted that he barely had the energy to yell at her. Over the last year, he noticed that she would take more liberties and she'd go beyond the bounds of their dynamic. She would attempt to converse with him, paid particular attention to him or assisted him without order. These were things that girls of her status would only achieve with their Masters in an alternate universe - after all, she was his servant and not familiar.

The girls attachment to him both comforted and horrified him - because he knew the feeling was born from a misplaced need to care; something that the girl had contained in abundance when _Potter_ was alive. He did not wish for her to turn her pathological need to care onto him. However, he would be remiss if he did not acknowledge, that their close and isolated living situation did not make them accustom to each other.

Within these walls, it was easy for them to develop a sense of normality in each other's company.

Regardless, he still had an appearance to maintain.

"A nightmare? Get out." he grumbled, "You are lying."

"I do not lie, Master."

A silence overtook them, allowing him to gain more clarity and he began to make out her form as his eyes adjusted to the moonlight. Seeing her sitting on his bed stirred feelings that he deemed inappropriate and he mustered what anger he could.

"Get out!" he repeated, making her jump a little at the force of his voice, "You'd dare enter your Masters room, _my room,_ without permission, on the assumption that you heard screaming? Waking me-"

"I was worried-"

"_Worried?!_" he said incredulously,_ "_Do you understand how ridiculous you sound?"

"I _was_ worried; I thought someone was attacking you!"

"_That_ thought should have deterred you from acting all together."

"Why would it?!" the girls voice hitched and he feared the worse - that she may have become loyal.

He pushed himself up into a seated position and grabbed the front of her night shirt threateningly. It was oversized and stretched as she tried to free herself, revealing a slither of the girl's décolletage.

He sneered, "Do you really need reminding? I force you to drink a potion every month to suppress your magic and I am nothing but cruel in my treatment and management of you. By all logic you should want to hurt me, want to murder me even."

"No I c-couldn't; you're all I have left."

The girl began to panic a little; it had been a very long week and the tension between them was razor thin but before he could open his mouth to retaliate the girl bridged the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

He froze in shock.

He had never experienced a kiss; it felt electric and comforting at the same time.

Overcoming his shock, he pushed her away.

"Stop." he warned, locking his eyes with hers.

She returned the gaze, bearing raw emotion he had never seen before;

"Please"

His mind was screaming at him.

The little comfort they felt in each other's company paled in comparison to the destruction they would face if they were ever discovered.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? Please let me know if you did, it means the world to me!**

**Thank you Guest, Btterflykiss69, Fallenangel9005,**** IND520 (as always) and itoe hime for your comments.** I know the story may be hard to follow because they are 600 word drabbles (I am not really sure because I have already pictured the world in my head so I know whats going on) but if you have any questions I am more than happy to answer them.

**itoe hime** - Hi itome hime, thank you for your review on the last chapter. Purebloods and Half-bloods are not allowed to have 'relations with Mudbloods' so no romances and no breeding because they want Mudbloods to 'die off'. Since this law was placed, Mudbloods became restricted and therefore attractive and lucrative for those trouble makers in Knockturn Alley. Once the Mudshell's became commonplace, Mudbloods became even rarer, and a sought out delicacy, if you will. The wizard in question would make a lot of galleons for hermione's first time and as long as the proprietor does not allow the girls to reproduce or falls in love with them, I am sure there would be no issue.

No love and no babies with Mudbloods. Good thing Snape can't have le babies.

+Oh and don't worry, it _will _get worse but it will definitely get better very soon. I am so happy to see when people are enjoying the story, it inspires me so! Love comments! nom nom nom


	20. The Evening Cleanse

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**The Evening Cleanse**

*** WARNING– **The following content briefly implies the murder of a child #spoileralert

Hang in their friends.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

There was something therapeutic about the sound of the rain. As if it were cleansing the streets of all the hate, the houses of all the anger and everyone's hearts of fear. The rain was so loud that he could barely hear the girl's hitch in breath as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Resting his chin on top of her head, she pressed her back further into his chest until he could feel her heart beat reverberating through him.

It almost made him forget.

The girl intertwined her fingers into his own, and squeezed softly.

The familiar feeling of desired stirred in his stomach but he had since learned to accept it. Even though it posed a great risk to their lives; he collected what moments he could to feel human again.

Today had tested his limits, morality and brought him to a new level of shame.

Burying a child.

It was unfortunate that he had to endure the consequences of the birth of a squib in the Malfoy family. And even after collectively fathering over eighteen children, the Malfoy's still chose to take the life of the child; after all, who would allow a squib to live in the muggle world and risk having magical children. It was against everything the new world had created.

They had begged him for a potion to help the child but it was impossible.

His Master had exacted the execution.

And as sad as it was he could not find himself feeling as such; instead he felt numb.

That was, until the girl had welcomed him home with a fiery devotion that enveloped him whole.

The girl removed her fingers for a moment and got up from the window seat. She disappeared from the room, taking the warmth she provided with her, leaving him cold and wanting. He stared listlessly out the window into the street, the rain was pelting harder now. It ricocheted off the pavement, crackled along the side of the house and pummelled the garden outside.

"Severus?"

Every time she said his name it sounded sweet like honey and sent fearful tremors down his spine.

The girl was standing expectantly before him, holding a small beaded bag that he had procured from Fletcher. Reaching into it, until her entire arm disappeared, she extracted a sleek, white wand.

Yew wood, dragon hearts-string, 9 ¼ inches.

Stolen.

"I have been practising."

"Is that so?" he asked. The girl knew he wanted to yell at her.

"Yes. This wand does not . . . like me very much but I can manage. Would you like to see?"

He wanted to say no but indicated otherwise.

The girl crawled back onto the window seat, bringing with her the heat and eliciting a sigh from him that was lost in the rain. Pointing the wand at a wayward book on the ground the girl said with forced confidence.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_."

The corner of the book rose a little, but not enough to be impressive by anyone other than himself.

He did not express his opinion, only pulling her closer into his chest and burying his face into her hair. This girl was truly something to be marvelled. Not only had she developed a resistance to his potion but she has been growing stronger every day.

She had become a symbol of hope.

They sat together the rest of the night, the girl's soft snoring vibrating against his face.

While they lived cautiously, he was not ashamed to forfeit his life; he was ready to risk it all.

**~~~~oO0Oo~~~~**

**Did you like this 600 word drabble? **

**Please leave a comment and let me know how you are enjoying the story; comments encourage me to keep writing :)**

_**Thank you**__ to kimmehkins123, AshllMusicLOverLOner, Itoe Hime, , Bartemius, Blood Red Gun, superficialscribe, TequilaNervous, The Knight Princess and hannah2494__** for favouring the story! **_

_**Thank you**__ to B2-the-ry2, Blood Red Gun, Btterflykiss69, Casini, CommunityOutcast, Draco lover 91, Duckducknbear, Erebourne, Fallenangel9005, FyreFawn, Geuh, Itome Hime, , Kambrin Potter, LilyEvansLily, LittleLiar666, Macavity'sGirl722, MissRoxanneChan, ProperT, Rallie, SapphireDreamer26, SnarkyG, Stephanie Jean Snape, TequilaNervous, The Knight Princess, Von95, alightinthedark89, catsgotmytongue, ellebell6, elynn1469, juliecwills, natashak, pumpkin14159, stellaHS, superficialscribe, twightlightlvr13.1995, wolfover1996__** for hanging in there and following the story. **_

_**IND520 -**__I think Snape has had a long time to think about what he has done, he is the type of person to harbour guilt unwillingly. I also believe that Hermione had been in a position of submissiveness for so long that when he began to allow her to become her own person she was both grateful and forgiving. She had seen his memories and as she grew older, she would have realised that this was as good as it was going to get for her and that without him she would probably be with the Malfoy's or dead. _

_**Itoe Hime **__- two comments? :D Nom nom delicious. I hope this was a little happier than the last chapter, there was a little affection in this one. They definitely need some loving, and I think they would both be so starved of it that they would risk it all for the comfort of each other, even Snape because, I do not see him in a position of authority in this reality, the only claim to fame he has is being a part of the Voldewars and Voldemorts confidant. As long as he obeys the rules and does what he is told he can live a comfortable life. But aside from this I do not see anyone giving two damns about him._

_**TequilaNervous -~**__Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light~_


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